Making Friends
by PyschoticGoldfish
Summary: Draco tries to make a friend before starting his first year at Hogwarts


**This is from like... Two years ago. I just found it on my Laptop, haven't posted any stories on my account y et, and thought I'd give it a try. Lemme know what you think?**

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A small green lizard scurried through the long grass behind a dark and ominous mansion, trying to find some light in which to bathe. It passed along the sight of a pale, blonde haired boy. Noticing this shock of emerald, the young boy shook his head and sighed. 'Daydreaming is for mudbloods Draco, not for those as pure as our family.' His father's words vibrated through his mind and he scowled.

"Maybe," he whispered to no one in particular, "if you stopped giving me such words of wisdom father, I would have made my own friends by now. Then I wouldn't be stuck with your friends idiot sons." Indeed, he only had two people that could even remotely be classed as his friends, and they were more like a following. "Crabbe and Goyle. Ugh."

Sighing, he ran a hand through his nearly white hair and then pushed himself up off the ground. His mother was taking him to Diagon Alley soon through the Floo Network to buy his robes and other equipment. He was looking forward to finally owning his very own wand.

Climbing onto his Nimbus 2000 racing broom, which his father had bought him the very day it came out, he sped to the back door of the aptly named Malfoy Manor and then stowed it in the shed. He could head his mother shouting his name from the kitchen and raced through his home towards the sound of her voice

"Don't spoil him Narcissa. He has that infernal broom already."

"But Lucius, first-year students aren't permitted brooms at Hogwarts. He'll need something to show his friends."

"Fine. He may have an owl."

Pretending not to have heard his parents conversation, and hiding his glee at getting an owl, Draco walked into the room with the confidence he had been taught to exude and turned to them.

"Shall we go mother? I rather want to get my things before the riff-raff arrive." This was the way in which he had always been told to talk and act about others, and it pleased his father. Draco himself however failed to see how he would ever make friends if he never talked to those his family considered beneath him and belittled everyone else. Surely that would just make people dislike him.

Taking a handful of Floo powder he threw it into the fireplace in the next room and spoke clearly into the green flames lapping at his knees hungrily. "Diagon Alley." Within a minute he was standing in the Leaky Cauldron. He cast his gaze around and then wrinkled his nose, walking over to the wall that would let him into the Wizarding street and waiting for his mother to use her wand and tap the correct brick. When she arrives she also hurried through the pub as though it was condemned and hastened to tap the brick and then make her way into the street, her son dutifully following her.

As the two blondes made their way around the stores to but his supplies he grew bored. He had not yet seen one other person his own age buying materials for their first year at Hogwarts. Then again, it was quite early in the summer for everyone to be shopping. Perhaps they should have waited until everyone was rushing? No, of course not, his father would never approve of such things. Malfoys didn't rush, and they didn't need to battle through crowds of people with the contacts they had. They demanded respect from everyone and everything.

The next place they had to go was Madam Malkins, for his school robes and uniform. "Mother, may I go in here myself? I'd like for you to get me an ice-cream from Floreans?" He looked at his mother hopefully, not daring to dream for the answer he wanted.

"Of course darling I'll wait for you at Ollivanders," his mother crooned. Giving his a swift hug, she handed him a handful of golden coins and then made her way down to the ice-cream parlour.

Draco stepped into the store and immediately Madam Malkin was upon him. Unfortunately, she was busy herself but her second in command immediately started measuring him. She then asked him to put one of the robes on as she pinned it to the right length. Draco did so without commenting. The girl was rather slow, which was of course annoying. However, before he had a chance to request that Madam Malkin take over immediately, a scruffy dark haired boy entered and suddenly she was busy fitting him in his robes. Taking this as his chance to make a friend, Draco turned to the boy.

"Hullo. Hogwarts too?" When the boy confirmed this, Draco continued. "My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands. Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms, I don't see why the first-years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow." This was of course a lie. He already had a broom, but he did want to smuggle it in. And his father wasn't next door, he wasn't here at all, but Draco wanted the boy to think his parents cared. "Have you got your own broom?"

"No," replied the boy.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No."

"I do – Father says is a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No."

Draco looked sideways at the boy. He was trying very hard to start a conversation but the boy was being very awkward. So far he had only replied with one word answers. "Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been - imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" He barely gave the boy a chance to reply before he noticed a huge, hairy man. In surprise he exclaimed "I say look at that man!"

"That's Hagrid," replied the boy, " he works at Hogwarts."

"Oh, I've heard he's a sort of savage – lives in a hut by the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic and ends up setting fire to his bed."

"I think he's brilliant." The boy spoke oddly, and Draco immediately reverted back to sneering. He didn't like people who talked down to him.

"Do you? Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead."

"Oh, sorry. But they were our kind weren't they?" It had just occurred to him that this boy may not be a pure-blood. In which case he wouldn't want him as a friend anyway.

"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."

Thank God. It would have been extremely irritating if he had been trying to befriend a mudblood. Although, was this boy being purposefully elusive, or was he just stupid?

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families." Suddenly Draco became suspicious. "What's your surname, anyway?"

At once Madam Malkin told the boy he was done and he turned to leave. Draco called after him.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose." The boy didn't even reply, and Draco barely heard when he was told he could leave. He did so and went to meet his mother. After eating his ice-cream dejectedly and buying a wand – a reasonably springy 10" hawthorn wand with a unicorn hair core – his mother took him to buy an owl. He chose one without enthusiasm – an eagle owl he named Prince – and then they returned home. Draco was quiet all the way.

'My first attempt at making a friend,' he thought. 'Well that was a failure.' He would do better next time.


End file.
